Title: L' Estate di Suicidio
Author: Clynn
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I'm not making any money off of them.
Author's Notes: This chapter is out a couple days later than I expected, sorry about that. I got a little caught up with visiting relatives, and then my family's car was stolen, which really bites. Anyway, no Trelawney in this chapter, but there is a brief appearance by Ron. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. This chapter is for Sarah and Hematite9, who both emailed me to remind me to get writing. Anytime I'm not updating quickly enough, send an email to lonegungrrl@hotmail.com and I'll get moving. Hope you all enjoy this chapter, and please review!
Chapter 13
Again, like every morning for the past few weeks, I am drawn out of sleep by a gentle but persistent shaking of my shoulders.
"Harry... Harry, come on, time to get up." Snape steps back and allows me to search groggily for my glasses. The scent of bacon permeates the small living quarters and I yawn widely. Dragging myself out of the bed, I am delighted to note that I have yet again made it through the night with no disturbing dreams, without the assistance of a potion. Though I have yet to make it through an entire week without nightmares, I have been able to sleep soundly often enough that Professor Snape no longer keeps a nightly vigil at my bedside, and only comes in when he hears me cry out. Though we have not returned to the Great Hall for a meal since the incident with Trelawney nearly two weeks ago, I have engaged in small talk with several other professors when spotted in the halls with Snape. I am still not comfortable speaking to anyone besides Snape, but it is progress.
"Are we having another lesson today?" I pad into the living room after Snape, still clad in my new, soft pajamas. Frankly, if Snape didn't insist that I change into 'real clothes' before 9 o'clock each morning, I don't think I would ever wear anything but pajamas.
"Er... Actually, Harry, I had something a bit different planned for today. But only if its okay with you of course, I don't want you to feel rushed... And I can always go alone..." Snape is looking at me nervously and I have to resist the urge to laugh. This summer has certainly revealed a new side of my professor, so eager not to push me to far or make me uncomfortable. The change is a bit disconcerting, but welcome nonetheless.
"What is it, Professor?" I do my best to sound encouraging, and I begin to wonder if Snape is the only one who has changed. I certainly didn't care much about Snape's feelings before this summer.
"Well... Albus gave me your school list for next year, and I thought maybe we could go to Diagon Alley to pick up your supplies and get a few things for me. But if its too much... Well, you know, we can always stay here and order your supplies by post... The shipment charges are a bit much, but it shouldn't be a problem..."
"Professor, I'd love to go to Diagon Alley with you. Can I see the list of supplies? Hey, if the supply lists have been sent... Professor, who are the Gryffindor prefects? Is it Hermione? I imagine she would be crushed if she didn't make it..." Snape blanched suddenly, as if I had reminded him of something unpleasant.
"Oh, Harry, I hadn't thought... Well, you didn't make it, I'm sorry... Hermione is one, but the other... Well, I certainly didn't agree with the decision, but its up to the headmaster, you know. The other Gryffindor prefect is Neville Longbottom." Snape glances at me nervously, trying to read my expression. In truth, I couldn't be happier. Hermione has been working to become prefect since she got her Hogwarts letter, and Neville... He's been telling us all to follow the rules for as long as I can remember, out of shear fear of the professors. Now, at least, he'll be able to do something when we ignore him. Besides, Neville is a wonderful person with a desperate need for a little self-esteem.
"Thats great, Professor!" I grin at Snape to show that I mean it, and he relaxes a bit. It never really occurred to me that I had a chance at prefect anyway, with all the points I've lost for Gryffindor over the years. As much as I hate to admit it, Snape is perfectly justified in saying that I act as though the rules don't apply to me. Regardless of my reasoning, I've broken more rules in my first four years than the average person does in seven. And chances are, I'm not going to stop. I would feel like an awful hypocrite giving some first year a detention for wandering the corridors after curfew when I've done the same thing a million times. Snape nods his approval at me, and we begin to eat.
Snape hurries me though my morning ritual and practically drags me out of Hogwarts, through the empty early-morning streets of Hogsmeade and into the Three Broomsticks. We walk to the back and floo to Diagon Alley. Once there, Snape calms down a bit, and we take off at a leisurely stroll down the streets. Most shops don't open until 8, and it is only 7:15 now. Still, there are some peddlers on the street, and Snape does not object when I stop to finger a small owl trinket, made of shining glass. I smile a bit at the expression carved into the owl's face, a look of haughty disdain that I have seen frequently on Hedwig. With a grin, I replace the owl and return to Snape's side. He leads me on, into the only shop open this early, Flourish and Blotts. Really, with all the robes Dumbledore bought me, and the potions ingredients from Snape, I hardly need to go anywhere else.
"There shouldn't be anyone from Hogwarts here," Snape tells me, "The lists were only sent out this morning, and it is a weekday. Most of your classmates will be unable to come here until a weekend, assuming that they have taken Dumbledore's warnings seriously enough not to come unaccompanied by a fully trained, licensed, adult wizard. However, should we see anyone who would recognize the oddity of our shopping together, our story is that Albus found your muggle home unsuitable and placed you at Hogwarts. As I was the only teacher available, I was coerced into agreeing to bring you here. I'm sure you will understand that if I see any reason for this ruse to be put into place, no time will be spared to inform you of my reasoning. If you, on the other hand, spot something that I don't, please attempt to inform me, as the change in your attitude will undoubtedly be a bit more subtle than the change in mine- the line between respect and... understanding, I suppose, is a thin line indeed. I'm sure it wouldn't seem terribly out of character for you to attempt idle chit-chat with you horrid old professor by pointing out a classmate, would it?" Snape pauses in his lecture, and suddenly realize just how much faith he has put in me by revealing his humanity. Even now, Snape is struggling to maintain the cold, hard mask he always wears in public, and remain the same understanding person I've come to know this summer.
"I would probably realize it was a bad idea if I stopped to think about it, professor, but I probably wouldn't stop to think about it. So no, it wouldn't be terribly odd of me." Snape glances down at me with a hint of amusement on his face. It took awhile for him to adjust to my self-deprecating remarks, but I think he's finally realized that if I am feeling particularly bad, I'm more likely to go for hours without cracking a smile than to laugh at myself. I am, much to my own bewilderment, looking forward to a day of shopping with Snape.
I follow Snape into the brightly lit bookstore, a small smile on my face. The smell of new books, crisp, clean pages and shiny new covers drifts through the store. I may not be a bookworm like Hermione, but there is something undeniably pleasing about the feel of a brand new book, with its sharp corners and stiff, unread pages. I drift aimlessly down one of the aisles, fingering the spines of each book, and reading the titles. I seem to be in a fiction section, and I laugh out loud when I see a book titled, "The Muddled Up Muggle," which appears to be about a muggle who begins to notice strange things happening in his home when he rents a room to a stranger in need. The author clearly has no knowledge of muggle life- the illustration on the cover depicts a man- presumably the muggle- attempting to open a can of food without the assistance of a can opener.
"What is so funny?" Snape walks up behind me and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I hold out the book, and he snorts in disgust. "The ought to do a little research before they write these things," he mutters. "Come on, lets get your school books, I've already got what I need." He holds up a thick book on potions, something that looks dreadfully boring. My extra lessons with Snape have given me a new respect for potion making, and a limited interest in the subject, but my interest did not extend far enough for me to read a thousand pages on the making of veritaserum. I walk over to Snape and take the list of my school books out of his hand. Luckily, this year, nothing on the list bites or scratches. Flourish and Blotts has set up a display in the front of the store with Hogwarts books, separated by year, and its quite easy to get my things. As we head to the cashier to pay, I am struck with a thought.
"Er... Professor, I don't have any money with me. I'll need to go to Gringotts, I can't pay for this." Snape shakes his head impatiently, and I frown. I do not want him to pay for anything else for me, he has already bought more than enough potion supplies for me for the rest of the year.
"Don't worry about it, Harry. If you really feel the need, you can pay me back later, but I certainly don't mind paying." I thank Snape and take notice of exactly how much the purchase was. Regardless of how Snape felt about the matter, I was determined to pay him back. It makes me uncomfortable to know that I am in someone's debt, especially when I am more than capable of paying myself. If only the Weasley's had someone like Snape, making purchases for them without a second thought. Although I suppose they would be no more comfortable with it than I am.
We stride out of Flourish and Blotts, Snape carrying our purchases and leading us along. There are a few more people on the streets now, but I'm grateful to see that there is no one I recognize. There are, however, a few people who recognize me, and the whispers and pointing are making me very uncomfortable. I walk quickly to catch up to Snape, and he moves closer to me and briefly places a hand on my shoulder to calm me down. I notice that he turns his fiercest glare on anyone who looks at me oddly, and I'm grateful for his protective behavior. Snape leads us past the growing crowds of shoppers, and into the apothecary. He speaks briefly to an assistant, who scurries off to fill his order. The apothecary is small, and the atmosphere is unpleasant. I can certainly understand Snape's clear desire to leave as soon as possible. The assistant is obviously used to Snape's behavior, and practically runs back to us, Snape's order in hand.
"Be careful! You are not carrying vials of water, you know!" Snape snaps angrily at the assistant as he grabs his purchases and shoves some money into his hand. Without waiting for the assistant to count the money, he turns on his heel and stalks out.
"I've always hated that place," Snape mutters as we pull through the crowds.
"I noticed," I answer dryly, and Snape looks down at me with a grin. "Where next?" In answer, Snape pulls me into a bench at the ice cream parlor. We each order small sundaes, and I grin when I see Snape eating ice cream with a dot of hot fudge on his chin.
"Harry! HARRY!" I wince as I hear my name being yelled by an all-too familiar voice. I turn and greet my friend, hands shaking slightly under the table.
"Hello, Ron." I force my voice to be calm and steady, and Ron does not appear to notice my nerves.
"Harry, where have you been? We got an owl from Dumbledore saying that you were perfectly safe but that we would be unable to contact you for awhile, and Mum was so worried! And then Hermione owled and said she had gotten the same message, and we didn't hear anything at all from you, and- Professor Snape??" Ron stops talking, astonished, and stares at our potions professor. Snape has, I notice, taken the opportunity to wipe his face while Ron talks to me. Perhaps he can salvage something of his reputation, although I am doubtful that the vampire rumors allow room for eating ice cream sundaes outside on a bright, sunny summer morning.
"Mr. Weasley," Snape drawls, "Mr. Potter is, I assure you, in no immediate danger. He is staying at Hogwarts this summer, for reasons that are frankly none of your business. Professor Dumbledore felt that it would be unwise to allow Mr. Potter to come to Diagon Alley to purchase his supplies unescorted, and I was told that the privilege of babysitting him was mine. I came early in hopes of avoiding more schoolchildren I would rather not see at all, much less on my days off. I have, of course, been disappointed. However, I suggest that you make yourself scarce while Mr. Potter and I finish our business. I may not be able to take points over the summer, but I assure you, spending any more time than is necessary with the Boy Who Lived's lackey will put me in a very, very bad mood when the school year does begin." Ron looks furious, but he backs away nonetheless, biting back whatever he wanted to say. I manage to make out a muttered good-bye, and then he storms off, presumably to join the rest of his family.
"Thanks." I mutter to Snape, pushing my spoon around in my sundae. I've suddenly lost my appetite. At least now I know why my friends haven't been writing to me, although I am horrified to find that I hadn't even notice. I'd been to preoccupied to realize that I hadn't received a single owl since arriving at Hogwarts. I am grateful for Dumbledore's consideration, but furious with myself for not noticing. Snape, observing my discontent, takes my arm and leads me back to The Leaky Cauldron, so that we can go home.
